


The Master, and Television

by ausmac



Series: The Master in 1973 [3]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 03:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausmac/pseuds/ausmac
Summary: It seems peculiar meshed Time Lords/Humans can also dream.





	The Master, and Television

He shouldn't dream. He is fairly certain of that, on some level. The problem is, he finds himself sitting up in bed staring at the television and being berated by some little girl in a red dress carrying a clown doll. Really, it had to be a dream. 

_You know, you shouldn't be here. Sam should be here. What have you done to Sam?_

He sneered at the girl. "There is no Sam, there is only me. Sam was an intellectual construct to protect me whilst I was in a vulnerable human form. Sam is no more. Goodbye Sam. Now go away and leave me alone, you annoying little girl." 

The girl shook her head, making her curls bob. _ No, I can see now, Sam is still there. He's hidden inside you, deep inside, but he's part of you. You have to let him out. Sam deserves to live. You're very bad._

"Bad compared to what? Relativity is such a human concept. Compared to the implosion of the entire cosmos, I'm just a niggle in the timestream. Of course, compared to a hangnail, I'm pretty huge on the badness scale." 

She drifted closer, moving in an unnatural gliding flow, and leaned close to him. _All bad things must come to an end, Mr Sort of Time Lord, even for you. One day you'll stop - tick tock tick tock - and Sam will come back._

The Master felt suddenly cold. "Bugger off, you creepy little girl, or I'll…" 

She smiled, very self-assured. _Do what, nasty person? Zap me? What makes you think you're any more real than me? You can't destroy me because I'm a part of you too, just -like - Sam._

"Ha, that's what you think!" And he bent over to the bedside table, took out the gun in the drawer, and shot the television - - -

There was a sudden surge under the blankets and Gene hurtled sideways, falling onto the floor and looking wildly around. "What the fuck!" He stared up blearily at his lover and then at the smoking, shattered television. "Are you outta yer fuckin' head! That's a brand new telly!" 

The Master tucked the gun away, noting his return to the present, because he was awake and that was the way it should be, with Gene in his bed and no little red dressed girl with a clown anywhere nearby, to make him doubt anything. "I've decided I don't care for television. Let's stick to newspapers."


End file.
